


Halfway to Heaven

by brokencasbutt67



Series: Good Omens Bingo [10]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Grinding, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Smoking, Unrequited Love, nightclubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:08:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29682357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokencasbutt67/pseuds/brokencasbutt67
Summary: Apparently there is a nightclub in London called Halfway to Heaven. I wouldn't know, as I haven't been to London since I was 8. I may go exploring sometime.for the Good Omens bingo, fills the square of morosexualitykinda?
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens) & Original Male Character(s)
Series: Good Omens Bingo [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087919
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

As the dust settled around Tadfield Airbase, Aziraphale took in the sight of Crowley, Adam, and everyone else that surrounded him. The fury that emanates from Gabriel and Beelzebub can be felt for miles around, and Aziraphale already knows that he and Crowley will need to come up with a plan for how they’re going to survive their punishments, a plan like no other.

The plan that they do come up with is genius. A body swap – for a few days. No one suspects a thing, as they wander through St James’ Park, though the general public wouldn’t suspect anything would be amiss anyway.

Ice creams in hand, they find a bench to sit on and talk about anything and everything for a while. Aziraphale can tell that Crowley is holding something back, and he’s not quite sure what it is that Crowley is hiding. _Maybe he’ll tell me after the punishments. He wouldn’t hide it if it was important, would he?_

They face their punishments exactly how they planned, though Aziraphale may have indulged himself somewhat by asking for a rubber duckie and a towel. But no one had suspected a thing was amiss, and he and Crowley are free now, to live their lives as they wish.

They’ve spent a few nights at the Ritz, neither Crowley’s flat nor the bookshop is truly safe, but they’re even less safe while Heaven and Hell are still hunting for them. They shared a room, and there was an unplaceable emotion that emanated from Crowley as Aziraphale slept.

Aziraphale didn’t pick up on it until the morning came, when it lingered. He didn’t question it though; he wasn’t sure what it was that Crowley was feeling. Instead, he and Crowley wandered around London for the day, discussing various topics.

Eventually, they found themselves back in St James’ Park, seated on their usual bench. Aziraphale can feel anxiety radiating from Crowley, though he can’t hear anything that’s going on in Crowley’s mind. He’s concerned, of course he is. That doesn’t mean that he knows what to say, or do, though.

He doesn’t need to though, because Crowley is speaking.

“We’ve known each other for a long time” He starts. Aziraphale nods, watching as Crowley sits in _that_ way that has a funny tingle wrack through Aziraphale’s body.

“We have, dear. Is everything okay?” Aziraphale responds. Crowley nods, swallowing slightly.

“I’m ah… I…” Crowley can’t find the right words. He’s never been that good with words anyway, but right now it’s a particular challenge.

“I have feelings” He eventually says, though he regrets it. _No shit, of course, I have feelings._

“Oh, is that so?” Aziraphale responds. He too doesn’t know what to say. Crowley nods, looking down to the floor. He sighs as he tries to find the right words.

“I love you, angel. It scares me, I don’t know how I feel, I haven’t known a life any different, but I’ve realised that I love you” Crowley eventually says. He’s surprised that he managed to say it so clearly, when only a few minutes ago he was a bumbling fool. He doesn’t say anything, and neither does Aziraphale.

For several minutes, they sit in a tense silence, not looking at each other. Crowley glances up to Aziraphale, who is staring right at him. It’s hard for Crowley to not reach up and kiss Aziraphale, though it’s made easier when Crowley can see clearly on Aziraphale’s face that he doesn’t feel the same.

“Oh, my dear. I am sorry…” Aziraphale starts. Crowley doesn’t hear anything else; he doesn’t need to. He knows what Aziraphale is saying. _Sorry, don’t feel the same, ha suck an egg._

“I see you as a friend, a colleague, an associate. A brother, even” Aziraphale responds. Crowley doesn’t say anything, instead standing up and walking away before he can let his emotions overwhelm him. He can feel Aziraphale’s eyes on him as he makes his way towards his flat.

No longer does Crowley care if Heaven or Hell are waiting for him – they knew of Crowley’s feelings long before Crowley did. They’d relish knowing that Aziraphale has rejected him, it hurts more than any punishment they could inflict.

His flat is cold and empty when he enters. It has always been cold and empty, but for some reason, it feels so much worse today. Crowley falls into his bed, wallowing in his pity as the day passes into night.

Later in the evening, Crowley’s mobile rings. He lifts it, though upon seeing Aziraphale’s name flashing on the screen, he tosses his phone aside. He doesn’t care anymore.

His phone rings again, a few more times. In fact, Crowley is concerned when it _doesn’t_ ring again. Instead though, there’s a knocking at the door. He wanders over, looking through the peephole. He’s met with the top of Aziraphale’s head. Crowley shakes his head and makes his way back to bed. _Nothing. No reason for him to be here anymore._

“Crowley, dear. Are you in there? I’m worried about you” Aziraphale’s voice fills the flat. Crowley rolls over in the bed, hiding his head beneath the pillow. Aziraphale doesn’t leave for several hours. Crowley can hear him, _and feel him._ Crowley doesn’t leave his bed, he doesn’t want to risk showing Aziraphale that he’s here, he’s awake and aware of everything that Aziraphale has been saying since he appeared, whenever it was.

Eventually, Crowley hears Aziraphale stand up and walk away, murmuring something to himself that Crowley can’t quite make out. Hearing the angel walk away triggers something in Crowley though, and he finally lets his emotions out, crying into his pillow until eventually, he passes out from exhaustion. The overwhelming emotions of the day have worn him down and he isn’t sure if he can take it anymore.

Crowley knows, logically, that he’ll get through it. But right now, the only thing that’s showing as a potential solution for him is to leave London. There’s nothing keeping him here anymore.

_But that’s effort._

Instead, Crowley rolls over and tries to get some sleep. It’s a challenge, but as one day turns into two, then three and four, he begins to repair. He avoids Aziraphale as much as possible, which is much easier said than done, especially when Aziraphale insists on visiting him almost daily.


	2. Chapter 2

Crowley no longer wallows in pity. One day, he had forced himself to stand up, have a shower and something to eat. He left the flat and went for a walk across London. He didn’t see Aziraphale, and he didn’t pass the bookshop, the latter of which he’s incredibly proud of. It was tempting to go over and see Aziraphale, but he didn’t.

Instead, as the sun began to set, he found a nightclub. It was bustling and busy, perfect to take his mind off of Aziraphale.

He wanders in and finds a seat at the bar. As he drinks, he can feel people grinding against him, as well as countless sets of eyes on him, though he doesn’t care enough to respond. Instead, he stares down into the beer bottle.

“You’re new around here” a voice beside him has Crowley lifting his head.

“Yep,” He shrugs, taking a mouthful of his beer. Crowley never thought he’d be a beer drinker, though he never thought he’d part ways with Aziraphale either. Things change.

“What’s your name? I’m John” The guy says.

“Anthony Crowley,” Crowley says, draining the remainder of his bottle.

“Well, hey there Anthony. Welcome to Halfway to Heaven, if you need anything, I’m just over there” John says. He pats Crowley’s shoulder before wandering away. Crowley can tell that _John_ doesn’t know what to say to him. Crowley orders another beer, though he’s drinking it so quickly that before long, he’s losing his inhibitions. He stumbles over, falling beside John onto the leather sofa. John smirks slightly as he looks at Crowley.

“Hey guys, meet Anthony Crowley,” John says, though Crowley just takes some more of his drink. He knows that he should head back home, that he’s in a dangerous state – Crowley has never been too good on holding back his true form when he’s drunk. It’s why he and Aziraphale would only get drunk in the bookshop, away from the prying eyes of the mortals.

“I should head home” Crowley murmurs. He places the now empty beer bottle onto the table, before attempting to stand up.

“Oh, that’s a shame. The party was just getting started” John said. Crowley shrugged.

“I’ll probably be here tomorrow, I have nowhere else to be” Crowley shrugs before turning on his heel and walking away.

It soon becomes his second home. Crowley finds himself at the bar every night, the bar that’s aptly named Halfway to Heaven. Crowley never thought he’d get over the rejection from Aziraphale, but somehow he has, and he’s here now.

Sure, he’s still hurting. But no longer does he think of Aziraphale so much. He looks forward to the nights. He’s made a group of friends – John has become his best friend, almost replacing Aziraphale. And yet, he’s still hurting.

John is infatuated with him, something which has surprised Crowley greatly. _Why would anyone want me?_

Of course, John and Crowley have slept together. Crowley isn’t going to pass up the opportunity to get laid, even if he doesn’t share John’s feelings. They’re all good friends, and Crowley has become incredibly popular in Halfway to Heaven. For once in his long, long life – Crowley has found a place where he belongs. Of course, he misses Aziraphale, but he’s got a new life, a life that’s better suited to his personality. Crowley is much happier in his new life, even if the hurt of losing Aziraphale is still lingering, like the after-effects of the Holy Water.


	3. Chapter 3

“So, Aziraphale” Anathema says. She looks at the angel. There are bags under his eyes and an unexplainable sadness hidden deep behind his eyes. She’s worried, of course, she is. She doesn't know what happened between Aziraphale and Crowley, neither of them will talk about it. What she does know is that it's hurt them both greatly. 

“Yes, my dear?” Aziraphale says, taking a sip of his tea.

“Have you seen Crowley recently?” She asks, though she already knows the answer. She’s hoping to pry though, to get some idea about what happened between the pair. The sadness that covers Aziraphale’s face has her regretting asking the question though.

“I haven’t… I haven’t seen him for several months actually” Aziraphale admits. He picks a biscuit from the plate in front of him, _comfort eating as usual._

“Oh, that’s odd. We haven’t seen him either. I wonder if he’s okay” Newt says, though before Anathema can comment, Aziraphale has responded.

“He’s fine.” Aziraphale doesn’t hide the hurt in his curt response. Anathema sees Newt’s reaction, though she won’t discuss it until later.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened between you both?” She asks. She watches as Aziraphale’s eyes falter away to the floor.

“It’s a long story” He murmurs.

“I understand if you don’t want to talk about it,” Anathema says, though Newt’s response is exactly what’s expected from him.

“Oooh, this sounds interesting.”

“Ignore him, Aziraphale” Anathema says, slapping Newt’s chest lightly. Aziraphale shakes his head.

“After everything we went through together, I suppose you both deserve to know” Aziraphale responds.

“Crowley confessed that he loves me. He said he has for many years…” Aziraphale says. He blinks away the welling tears. He regrets how he responded every single day. He longs for the ability to go back in time and stop himself from saying what he did. But he can’t. Every time he’s gone to Crowley’s flat, the demon hasn’t answered. Aziraphale ponders if Crowley knows it’s him and is ignoring him, or if Crowley has left London. The latter seems like the most viable answer – Crowley had expressed on several occasions that there was very little tying him to London, only Aziraphale and their friendship.

“Oh…” Anathema says. She’d seen that Crowley loved Aziraphale deeply, and she had thought Aziraphale felt the same. Her suspicions currently suggest the opposite.

“Yes. Foolishly I told him that I didn’t feel the same and I needed space and time. Now… well he’s gone. I’ve been to his flat, several times over. His car is still there, though I do suspect that he could’ve left it behind if he left” Aziraphale admits. He takes a sip from his drink, to hide the bubbling pit of emotions swirling in his stomach. He’s close to crying. He’s hurting. He’s hurt himself, he’s hurt Crowley, and he’s hurt the eons long friendship that they had, all because he was scared and foolish, acting rashly in the moment instead of thinking about his response.

“How do you feel about Crowley?” Newt asks. Anathema doesn’t say anything, taking a drink from her coffee instead. She had wanted to ask it, though finding the right words was somewhat of a challenge. Newt answered it for her instead though.

“I… I do not know” Aziraphale admits. He shakes his head as he speaks.

“I hold a deep fondness towards him, it’s profound. Now that he’s not here, I feel alone, cold even. It’s as though Crowley was a flame, warming me and lighting the way with his presence” Aziraphale continues.

“My fondest memories of my long life involve him, whether it’s in Rome eating oysters, in the Ritz, or even back when he rescued me from almost certain death, for crepes. He’s always been there for me, even when I didn’t deserve his unwavering loyalty and friendshpi” Aziraphale adds. Anathema lets a small smile fall onto her face.

“It sounds like you do love him, even if you didn’t know it at the time,” She says. Aziraphale nods slightly, though he doesn’t say anything for several, long seconds.

“I think you’re correct. I’ve never known truly how I feel, but now I know for certain that I love Crowley” Aziraphale admits. It feels foreign to say those words, and yet, it answers so many questions that he’s held for several years.

Anathema smiles around her coffee mug.

“Now… how do you plan to tell him?” She asks. Aziraphale shrugs.

“I do not know. I think it may be too late” Aziraphale shrugs.

“It’s never too late” Anathema responds. She chuckles and drinks the remainder of her coffee.

“You still have your angelic stuff, don’t you?” Newt comments, catching the attention of everyone around them. Aziraphale nods, oblivious to the confused expressions of the public around them.

“Yes, Heaven will likely be monitoring it, but we escaped entirely unharmed” He explains.

“Use a miracle to search for him. I’m sure that’s something that you could do” Newt shrugs. Aziraphale shakes his head.

“It may be too late, dear boy. It was many months ago when I told him… what I did” Aziraphale admits. 

“It’s never too late to try,” Anathema says. Aziraphale nods, though reluctant.

“I suppose you are correct” He comments. Anathema chuckles and smiles.

“I know I am” She states. Aziraphale smiles fondly.

“When are you going to do it?” Newt asks. Aziraphale shrugs.

“I don’t know. I haven’t got my thoughts in order enough to go _now_ , but I will eventually try to find him. Even if just to tell him that I love him” Aziraphale says. Anathema smiles.  
  
“Well, when you do, you’ll have to tell me how it goes” She states.

A few days have passed before Aziraphale feels as though he’s ready to find Crowley, though that may be more because of the sheer amount of alcohol coursing through him. He focusses all of his energy into searching for Crowley, and he’s rewarded. The image of a nightclub fills his mind. He’s certain that he’s seen the nightclub in previous days, though he isn’t too certain as to the location.

He pulls his telephone directory and finds the nightclub with ease. Aziraphale swallows his pride as he steps out of the bookshop, locking it behind him and begins to make the short journey away from the bookshop to the nightclub.


	4. Chapter 4

Aziraphale looks up at the nightclub and he can already feel the anxiety bubbling up deep within. He swallows his pride and walks inside. The stench of sweat is overwhelmingly powerful. Aziraphale swallows his gag, before pushing further forward. He scans his eyes over the crowds, though he can’t see Crowley in here. _He is here though; I know that much with certainty._

As people begin to circle Aziraphale, he continues to search and tries to avoid the people doing carnal acts against him.

Crowley can feel Aziraphale’s presence before he sees the angel. He grasps his chest for a moment, an overwhelming sense of love hits him, and he can’t take it.

“You okay, Anthony?” Someone asks.

“Yeah, fine” Crowley grumbles. He looks around the bar, and of course, it raises many questions from his friends. They also try to find whoever it is that Anthony Crowley is looking for. They don’t know though, and instead, they bring their attention back to the ongoing conversations.

Crowley shakes away the thoughts, taking a swig of his drink. Nothing is strong enough to take away the thought of Aziraphale, never mind the feeling that the angel is nearby. Crowley doesn’t need to search much longer though, he can see Aziraphale.

The angel is clearly uncomfortable as he squeezes through the small gaps between people who are grinding together, amongst various other things that would have Aziraphale aghast. Crowley looks down to his beer bottle again, trying to take away the thoughts of Aziraphale. It doesn’t last long though, and he can see Aziraphale is clearly searching for someone now, _him._

“Excuse me a moment….” Crowley murmurs. He stands up and walks away from the table. He can feel the eyes of his friends on him, but he doesn’t care.

“Aziraphale” He comments, pulling the angel’s attention to him. The smile on Aziraphale’s face when he sees Crowley is wide.

“What are you doin’ here?” Crowley asks.

“Oh, well actually, I was looking for you, dear” Aziraphale comments. His eyes flicker over Crowley’s shoulder, though before Crowley can turn, he has an arm wrapping around him and someone is grinding against him.

“I think you were pretty clear, angel. You didn’t want me, I’ve tried to move on” Crowley shrugs, taking a swig from the beer in his hand.

“Could we go somewhere… quieter, Crowley? I’m struggling to hear a word that you’re saying” Aziraphale says. The real reason he wants to go outside is that he’s more than uncomfortable in here. Crowley nods.

“Lead the way outside” He comments, and a moment later, he’s following Aziraphale outside, hearing calls of _“bye Anthony”_ filling the bar.

As soon as he’s outside, Crowley pulls a cigarette out and lights it up. He watches the grimace from Aziraphale, though he says nothing.

“You’ve changed, Crowley” Aziraphale comments.

“Well, things changed. Gotta have some fun in this shitty life, ain’t I” He responds. He lets out a puff of smoke, chuckling slightly as Aziraphale wafts it away.

“I understand that, my dear,” Aziraphale says.

“So… why are you here, Aziraphale? I know you weren’t just looking for me to talk about the weather” Crowley comments. Aziraphale looks to the floor, letting out a somewhat defeated sigh.

“I miss you,” He says. Crowley frowns slightly.

“No, you don’t.” Crowley responds. Aziraphale frowns in response, with an unplaceable emotion deep in his eyes.

“I do, Crowley. You were my best friend, I long to have you back. I miss our dates at The Ritz, our drives out of London to have afternoon tea. I miss it all” Aziraphale says.

“Aziraphale, you were pretty clear that what we had was only friendship to you” Crowley comments.

“And when I told you how I felt, how I feel, you…” Crowley trails off. He sighs and shakes his head.

“I’m not in the mood. I’ll swing by the bookshop tomorrow” He says, taking a swig from his beer before taking a drag from the cigarette. Aziraphale frowns, though he nods and walks away after a few moments. He hears the calls of _“Anthony!”,_ a telling sign of where Crowley has gone.

“So what was that about?” Someone asks Crowley, he can’t quite place where the voice has come from. He doesn’t really care either, in honesty.

“Oh, him? He was just an old friend” He responds. Crowley swallows his emotion, hiding it with a mask that appears every so often. Instead of pursuing the conversation, Crowley orders some more drinks and tries to forget about everything for one night.

John wanders over after a few moments, plucking the cap from atop Crowley’s head. He rests it on his own head.

“I love your hair, Anthony” He slurs. Crowley chuckles and shakes his head, taking his cap back and putting it on his head.

“Looked better when it was long” He responds, a smirk on his face.

Crowley knows that John wants to sleep with Crowley again, he’s wanted to since they first met. But Crowley isn’t interested in John that way. He never has been, John is a great friend though. Great wingman too.

Crowley isn’t interested in hooking up tonight – he had been earlier, but now he just wants to go home. He’s tired anyway. He pulls himself from his thoughts, easing John from his lap.

“I’m heading out. Got things to do tomorrow” He comments, pulling another cigarette from his pocket.

“God, you’re a grandad. It’s barely midnight!” Crowley ignores the jibes. _Imagine if they knew the real God._

Instead, Crowley leaves the bar, again hearing calls of his name. He wanders back across London. When he passes the bookshop, the lights are on in the flat. Crowley is tempted to go inside. He can’t though, he’s too drunk and he’s not in the right mindset.

So he doesn’t. Instead, he continues wandering back home. The flat is as cold and empty as when he left it. He has so many friends now, since he’s started going to Halfway to Heaven, and yet, he feels more alone than ever. _It’s because Aziraphale isn’t there._

Crowley falls into his bed, still dressed. He smells of sweat, a mixture of colognes and perfumes, as well as smoke and alcohol. It’s not a pleasant smell, by a long shot. Crowley does quite like his new life though; he likes the freedom that comes by not being tied down to Aziraphale – even if they were only friends and nothing more.

Crowley shakes away the thoughts and tries to get some sleep. He’s worrying though, and it causes a night of restless sleep. He’s scared of what he’s going to say, or do, when he’s faced with Aziraphale again, after so long of being apart.

Crowley hasn’t overcome his feelings, far from it. But he’s getting there. Seeing Aziraphale has brought them all up to the forefront of his mind, and he’s not sure that he likes it.

But tomorrow is another day. Crowley lights up a cigarette, letting the scent of smoke overwhelm him as he tries to drift off to sleep for another night.


	5. Chapter 5

Crowley wakes up early. In honesty, he didn’t sleep very well. His mind was a warzone, caught between the battles of his heart for Aziraphale, and the battle of his mind that’s saying to walk away while he has the chance.

He wanders around the flat for a moment. The amount of alcohol that he consumed last night _should_ have inhibited his memory. He remembers everything though. He remembers seeing Aziraphale, how scared the angel looked in Halfway to Heaven. Crowley remembers Aziraphale’s words, and he remembers how he responded. Of course, Crowley remembers it. He remembers everything.

He knows that he should prepare to go and visit Aziraphale. He doesn’t want to though, when he considers it. He’s finally starting to settle into his own life, without Aziraphale there. He’s got his new friends, those who accept him for who he truly is. He knows just how little he had when he was with Aziraphale. He was happy though.

Even though Aziraphale didn’t love him, Crowley still had the thought that Aziraphale _might_ feel the same, and that happiness was what drove Crowley to wake up each day. Losing that happiness, Crowley fell down to Earth flat on his ass. For days on end, he wouldn’t leave the bed, he saw no reason. Sure, Aziraphale would call and propose they went to The Ritz, but it just wasn’t the same anymore.

So Crowley stopped answering the calls.

Slowly but surely, he was becoming a recluse. He saw no reason to do anything anymore. So when he found a home in the nightclub, everything transformed. He would get up and go out, the happiness and joy he felt were rejuvenating him.

It’s not the same as when he had Aziraphale, but he’s a new happiness. Crowley feels accepted. He doesn’t feel as stifled as he does when he goes to The Ritz, and the way the other patrons look down on him for what he wears, and _who_ he is.

He can walk into Halfway to Heaven wearing his usual skinny jeans, a cigarette in hand, and no one will bat an eyelid of disgust. Usually, they’re staring at Crowley’s ass instead.

He’s slept with people there – of course, he has. He won’t tell Aziraphale that though. The angel doesn’t need to know what goes on behind closed doors in Crowley’s personal life. Crowley shakes away the thoughts, lighting up another cigarette as he wanders around the flat, changing out of last night’s clothes.

Eventually, it’s noon. Crowley sighs as he looks around, before deciding that there’s no point in delaying any further. He picks up his keys as he walks out of the block of flats, heading towards the bookshop. Crowley’s mind is a warzone as he walks the short trip. He’s torn – he still loves Aziraphale, deep down anyway. But he’s hurting. He can’t put into words just how much Aziraphale hurt him with his response. And Crowley isn’t sure if he can put himself through it anymore.

His heart is barely patched together – a combination of alcohol, smoking, and the highs that come from grinding against faceless strangers in a nightclub have patched it up enough that he no longer feels as though he’ll crumble at any moment.

But his new life is full of addictions. And Crowley isn’t sure that he wants to stop it. He loves who he is now.

Before he can lose himself in his thoughts, he’s standing in front of the bookshop. Before entering, he lights up a cigarette and takes a drag. It calms his mind, though he can feel that Aziraphale is watching him intently.

Crowley eventually walks in. The bookshop is the same as the last time he was in here, however long ago that was. He looks around for a few moments – nothing has moved, there’s not even a speck of dust on the books. It’s as though the last time he was in here was yesterday, not as many months. He isn’t even sure how many months ago it was, somewhere near to a year, he thinks.

“Ah, Crowley!” Aziraphale pulls Crowley from his thoughts. Crowley cringes, Aziraphale is far too chipper for how Crowley truly feels.

“How are you today?” Aziraphale asks. Crowley shrugs slightly, fiddling with his sunglasses for a few moments. Eventually, he pulls them away. It’s a forced habit to wear them, though the miracle – or whatever they’re called for demons – has rendered the sunglasses pretty much useless.

“Oh…” Aziraphale comments, when he sees that Crowley’s eyes are now in fact green, instead of yellow. For several moments, neither of them say anything, though eventually, Aziraphale breaks the silence.

“I suppose we should talk about things” He comments. He wanders over and locks the bookshop, before leading Crowley up to the flat. Crowley hasn’t been here for many years.

“Go ahead, angel” Crowley shrugs, fiddling with a cigarette that he’s pulled from nowhere. He pokes it behind his ear after a moment.

“I’m uh…” Aziraphale sighs. He’s spent so many years reading, and yet when he needs it the most, words are failing him.

“Aziraphale. Spit it out” Crowley is curt. Aziraphale nods, looking down.

“I regret what I said. Every single day, I wish I could go back and change it” He states. Several moments pass in silence, and when Aziraphale looks up, Crowley’s face is etched with shock. He hadn’t expected _that._

“Oh…” Crowley isn’t sure what to say. He looks to Aziraphale, then to the wall, and then to the floor while he tries to work out what to say.

“I think you were clear back then, Aziraphale. Things can’t just change like that” Crowley states. He stands up, adjusting his jeans.

“I was stupid, Crowley. I didn’t know what I was saying at the time. I didn’t know how I _feel_ ” Aziraphale admits. Crowley shakes his head.

“I’m sorry, Aziraphale. It’s too late” He says. Aziraphale frowns, a shaky breath fills the room.

“Where will I find you?” He asks, watching as Crowley makes his way to the stairs, leaving the flat.

“Halfway to Heaven” Crowley states, and a moment later, he’s gone.


End file.
